


Derry is Calling (texting)

by zendrella



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, and also Eddie lives in LA, in which Mike added everyone to a group chat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zendrella/pseuds/zendrella
Summary: Eddie gets a text from Mike Hanlon and his world turns upside down when memories he doesn't remember forgetting return to him.





	Derry is Calling (texting)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](https://liliemm.tumblr.com/post/188024320532/chapter-three-mike-hanlon-makes-a-group-chat) and [this](https://liliemm.tumblr.com/post/188110813702/a-lot-of-people-wanted-a-part-2-for-this-post-so)!
> 
> MASSIVE thank you to Lena for beta reading this for me! Love you loads ❤️

_ DING! _

Eddie tears his eyes from his computer screen and glares at the phone lying face down on his desk. Now is not the right time for distractions. He has to finish this report before his shift ends or his boss will yell at him on Monday. And when the boss yells, she yells loud enough for the whole building to hear, which is the last thing Eddie needs right now.

He reaches for the phone, grimacing at the marble case Myra gave him for Christmas for the millionth time, and turns it over to switch it to silent mode. He freezes when the screen lights up and he sees the notification.

_ Mike Hanlon added you to a group chat _ is printed in small letters on the screen. Eddie’s brow furrows, the name _ Mike Hanlon _ stirring something inside of him. He picks the phone up properly and unlocks it, opening the group chat and scrolling through the other numbers.

_ Beverly Marsh_. _ Ben Hanscom_. _ Stanley Uris_. Eddie’s stomach twists with every new name, and when he reads _ Bill Denbrough _ he nearly drops the phone. A flood of memories long forgotten flash in his head, images of a floppy fringe and flannel shirts filling his mind. He recalls a stutter, a bike, a young boy calling _ Hi-yo Silver, away! _ before he shakes his head roughly and grips the desk so hard his knuckles turn white.

_ Bill_. _ The Losers Club_. _ Derry_.

Eddie’s phone dings again and he looks at the new message sent in the chat.

** _Mike — 4:26 PM  
_ ** _ Hey guys, this is Mike Hanlon. From Derry. I know you probably don’t remember me right now, but I need you all to come back. Because It has returned. _

Eddie silently thanks whatever gods may be watching over him that he’s alone in his office when he lets out a strangled gasp. He remembers graywater. He remembers a leper. And he remembers a clown.

He remembers being terrified in the sewers, and he remembers an oath. The palm on his left hand stings when he looks at the scar he’s had for as long as he can remember, without knowing where it came from. He closes his hand, balls it up into a fist, and looks back at his phone when two other messages come in.

** _Beverly — 4:29 PM  
_ ** _ Oh my God_.

** _Bill — 4:29 PM  
_ ** _ The fucking clown? _

Eddie’s left fist tightens. His nails dig into his palm, almost hard enough to pierce the skin and reopen the scar. He feels his breath coming in short gasps and drops the phone on the table, his right hand fumbling after the inhaler in his jacket. He raises the plastic to his mouth and bites down on it, ready to take a hit, but then Mike sends another text.

** _Mike — 4:31 PM  
_ ** _ I know you’re scared, but we all made an oath. We swore we’d come back. We swore we’d stop It. Please, I need you to come back. To come home_.

Eddie somehow feels himself soften and his breathing calm down at Mike’s message. He barely remembers him, but the warmth filling his chest can’t be for nothing. He just knows that Mike, that all of the people in this group chat, are important to him, and he’s missed them without even realizing it.

He unclenches his fist and puts down the inhaler, and with shaky hands, he types the only thing he can bring himself to say.

** _Eddie — 4:32 PM  
_ ** _ Well fuck. _

Eddie lets out a sigh and slumps back in his chair. He swivels around, away from the forgotten report, and looks out of the window and over his view of Los Angeles. He looks down at the street far below him, seeing hundreds of people milling about. Their lives are continuing in the same way as they always have, and always will, but his own has been turned upside down. Or maybe it’s been turned back right side up. His childhood, completely forgotten until just five minutes ago, keeps rushing back to him, more and more details by the second. A quarry, a photo booth in an arcade, a clubhouse. A hammock.

But something is missing. Something so important that it’s causing the rest of his rushing memories to feel out of place, incomplete.

He holds his inhaler up and looks at it. A vague memory of yelling _ Gazebos! _ at his mother finds its way to the front of his thoughts and he lets out a laugh that comes out more like a huff.

Three quick messages _ ding _ from his phone, and he pockets the inhaler before looking at the group chat.

** _Richie — 4:37 PM  
_ ** _ we’ll* fuck _

** _Richie — 4:37 PM  
_ ** _ hi eds _

** _Richie — 4:38 PM  
_ **😘

It’s like something clicks in Eddie’s brain.

_ Richie Tozier_.

Wide eyes behind too big glasses, the smell of cigarettes, and bruised knuckles. Eddie leans his head in his hands and takes a deep breath. It does not have the desired effect, and instead of his suddenly rapid heartbeat slowing down, it beats faster. Eddie closes his eyes, the LA view too bright, too calm, not energetic enough to keep up with the memories of _ Richie _ swirling all around him.

He looks down at the phone again, looks at Richie’s messages. He manages a laugh, and remembers laughing at jokes around a campfire, jabs at school, teasing while reading comics. He looks at the emoji and remembers a stolen kiss under the stars the night before one of them left for college. Did Richie leave first? Did Eddie? He doesn’t even remember who initiated the kiss, but he remembers liking it despite eighteen years of internalized homophobia screaming at him for being dirty, for being a fairy, for liking a boy. For liking _ Richie_.

He slowly types out a reply, but before he can press send, someone beats him to it.

** _Stanley — 4:40 PM  
_ ** _ That’s it. I’m not going. _

** _Stanley — 4:40 PM  
_ ** _ You ruined it, Trashmouth. _

Eddie smiles at the memory of a silent boy, witty enough to keep up with Richie.

He looks at his unsent message. Two words. He adds an emoji. Regrets it. He moves to delete it, but he accidentally presses enter and the message is sent.

** _Eddie — 4:41 PM  
_ ** _ Hi Richie _❤️

Eddie swears and turns back to his desk, nearly throwing the phone on the table. Why did he think the heart was a good idea in the first place? He definitely had feelings for Richie when they were kids, but that was more than twenty years ago and Eddie is married now. He’s gotten over Richie.

He picks up the phone again just as it dings.

** _Richie — 4:42 PM  
_ ** _ i missed ya, spaghetti head _

A wave of… _ something _ washes over Eddie and he feels his breath catch in his throat. His hand moves by itself, reaching for his inhaler and taking a hit, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Maybe he isn’t over Richie. Or maybe he was, because he didn’t remember him, but his feelings are coming back. And they’re coming back hard.

He can’t stop himself from smiling when he reads Richie’s texts again. _ Eds _ shines up at him, bringing back years of snapping back at the taller boy for using the nickname.

He remembers hating the nickname. He remembers secretly loving it.

** _Eddie — 4:44 PM  
_ ** _ I haven’t missed those nicknames… _

But good God does he miss Richie. He realizes that now as his fingers move on their own. Twenty years of longing come crashing back and he can’t deny it.

** _Eddie — 4:44 PM  
_ ** _ But I have missed you. _

He hesitates for a second before he sends a third text.

** _Eddie — 4:44 PM  
_ ** _ A lot. _

Not even ten seconds later, a reply comes. But it’s not from Richie.

** _Stanley — 4:45 PM  
_ ** _ We’re still here, dipshits. I’m seriously not coming back if I have to watch you two pining over each other AGAIN. _

Eddie laughs, a real laugh this time. He doesn’t send another text, and neither does Richie. Mike returns and sends a long message describing more about It and invites everyone to dinner at Jade of the Orient in Derry so they can all talk in person. Before he can even really think about it, Eddie has booked a ticket to Maine. On his work computer. He’s going to get so much shit for it from his boss when he comes back, but right now he doesn’t care. All he can think about is his friends, his returning memories. When he leaves the office at 5 PM, he hasn’t even finished his report. He doesn’t care.

As he stands in the elevator, his phone vibrates. He gets it out of his pocket and opens the message from Richie. Not in the group chat. Richie has messaged him privately.

** _Richie — 5:04 PM  
_ ** _ hey eds _

Eddie smiles and types his reply.

** _Eddie — 5:04 PM  
_ ** _ Hi. What’s up? _

** _Richie — 5:05 PM  
_ ** _ texting a cutie _ 😉

** _Richie — 5:05 PM  
_ ** _ cause i assume you’re still good looking _

Eddie’s smile widens and he steps out of the elevator. He starts typing his reply as he pushes the heavy doors open and steps out on the street, and almost immediately someone bumps into him. Whatever, that’s his own fault for having his eyes on his phone. He mutters a quick apology and keeps walking.

“Eddie?”

He stops dead in his tracks. He knows that voice. The last time he heard it was more than two decades ago, but he _ knows _ that voice.

Slowly, he turns around and looks at the man standing there, his eyes glued to Eddie. His eyes behind glasses that aren’t too big anymore. His phone in his hand, a duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. Eddie’s grip on his own phone tightens and he can hear his blood rushing. The memory of a stolen kiss makes itself known again and all he can think about is the feeling of lips against his, belonging to the man in front of him.

“Richie.”


End file.
